'One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time.'

My trigger this morning.  Another wet, tangled towel abandoned on the floor in my husband’s dressing room.  Does he still not know - after YEARS of relentless nagging - that they don’t dry in a bedraggled heap on the carpet?

Another one… I have to take a breath when we get home and EVERY single light upstairs had been switched on again just before we left.  I am a total head case when it comes to lights.  I will go into a room and turn off a light.  It deeply grates when the husband or a child wantonly switches on and then abandons it.  The tack room light is ALWAYS left on.  It’s a real bête noire.

Last one.  When I get into my car - that I try endlessly to keep clean and tidy and mostly do a very good job - and Mole has filled the side pockets up with empty (contraband) Diet Coke bottles and sweet wrappers.  I try so hard to keep him healthy and he’s PROMISED not to put that crap into his body.  Then he leaves me the evidence.  It fills me with a slow burning fury.  I take it far too personally!

However, these things are not important.  I tell myself, from the depths of my hormone crazed, irrational bad temper.

Every morning Mole brings me coffee (decaf - for the highly strung creature that is his emotionally pendulum swinging wife).  He has done the washing up and the cooking for days while I have been finishing the first draft of book II.  He feeds the dogs and looks after the horses.

I must stop telling him that he smells strange and that he drives badly and that he needs a haircut.  I must stop telling stop chastising him for being on his phone constantly and remember that he’s running three businesses single handedly.

Gosh, this was cathartic.  I’ll go and try to be a better and kinder wife to my poor husband now.

Happy Saturday!

Love Callie xxx